


Undercover and Out of Sight

by imagined_haven



Series: Hot Professors 'Verse [3]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Angry Sex, F/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28952901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagined_haven/pseuds/imagined_haven
Summary: Aelin is grading midterm papers. Rowan offers his own unique brand of assistance.Based on a prompt from tumblr.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Series: Hot Professors 'Verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123625
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	Undercover and Out of Sight

Aelin let her head fall into her hands, sighing as she rubbed at her forehead. Midterms had arrived at Doranelle University, and with midterms came all of the papers from her advanced class to grade.

As the newest professor in the psychology department, she bore the brunt of teaching many of the more introductory classes. That was fine; not only did she like having the ability to bring new faces into the field to which she’d devoted her life’s work, but she had graduate assistants able to assist with grading the tests, since the answers were less open to interpretation.

Her more advanced course on personality theory, though, required a more in-depth and nuanced approach and therefore she had assigned a paper instead of a test. She’d thought it was a great idea, and it was certainly more fair to the students, as they would be able to develop the skills they would _actually_ need in the field rather than responding to a multiple-choice examination. However, that meant she was now forced to read more than twenty papers comparing and contrasting the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator and the Five Factor Model of personality traits.

Aelin groaned. The paper had been a mistake. At least it was the midterm; there was a less stringent deadline on her ability to read than there would have been if she’d assigned this paper as the final project.

“As much as I enjoy hearing that sound from you,” a smooth voice said from the doorway, “I think I prefer it being because of me.”

_Fuck_. She’d forgotten to lock the door, and Whitethorn must have seen an opportunity. “What are you even doing here? Your last class was four hours ago.”

Not that she had memorized his schedule. And even if she had, it wasn’t because it meant she would know when he was busy and when he could be interrupted. No, it was definitely so that she knew when she could work without interruption.

Whitethorn smirked from where he was leaning against her door. “Same thing as you, I’d imagine. Let me guess, you didn’t give yourself enough time to actually grade papers, because you thought it would be easier than it is.”

Arrogant bastard. “I have plenty of time, and how I grade my courses has nothing to do with you.” She could feel the tightness in her voice, and she deliberately took a deep breath. Calm and collected. If she didn’t rise to his baiting, he would leave, and she could work in peace.

“Testy,” he mused. “Sounds like you could use a break.”

“From you? Always.”

He locked the door and then shoved himself away from it, closing the distance between them in three quick strides and towering over her. “You know, it’s okay to admit you like what we do.”

Aelin scoffed, turning her attention back to the paper she was reading. “I don’t have to admit anything to you.”

“That’s true enough. And yet you never tell me to leave, either.” A quick glance his way told her he was rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows and loosening his tie. _Fuck_. She shouldn’t have looked. There was no way his gaze would miss the way her thighs pressed together, or how she couldn’t quite help biting her lip. “Slide your chair back,” he said once he’d finished with his shirt.

Aelin froze, stunned. “What?”

“You heard me. Slide your chair back.”

She complied wordlessly, wondering exactly where he was going with this. As soon as she had, he slipped into the space she had created, kneeling on the floor. His large frame just barely fit beneath the wood of her desk, and if she hadn’t been so confused, it would’ve been almost comical. “What are you doing?”

Rather than reply verbally, he tugged her chair back toward himself and then pulled her hips to the edge of the chair. Aelin gasped as the movement caused her already-short skirt to ride up, exposing her simple black underwear to his gaze.

He remained still for a moment, and Aelin felt herself squirm as he quietly watched her. “Are you just going to stare, or are you going to actually do something?” she asked, feeling her irritation creep into her voice.

He slid his hands up her thighs, and she could just tell he was smirking as her muscles tensed beneath his touch. “Keep grading.”

Aelin frowned. “What?”

“Keep grading your papers.”

It was probably one of the strangest things he’d had her do, but Aelin shrugged and returned her attention to the paper as his hands continued to caress her thighs.

_While the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator is generally held to be less reliable as a measure than tests measuring the Big Five personality traits of the Five Factor Model, its popularity allows it to be more accessible as a concept and as a measure and has popularized several tenets of personality theory._

Aelin rolled her eyes. She’d known there would be a certain amount of unnecessary wording in order to get the papers to the minimum requirement, but she could’ve laid out this student’s thesis in half the words.

As she went to keep reading, she felt deft fingers tucking her underwear to the side of her outer lips. Fuck, was he…?

“Oh, _gods_.” He _was_ , if the way he let out a slow exhale a mere inch from her clit was any indication.

His voice was stern when he spoke again. “Keep reading.”

With her attention as fragmented as it was, Aelin realized she’d already forgotten the introduction of the paper and returned to the beginning.

_While the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator is generally held to be less reliable as a measure than tests measuring the Big Five personality traits of the Five Factor Model, its popularity—_

“ _Fuck!_ ” Her hands clutched at the edge of the desk as his tongue traced along her core. He then proceeded to nuzzle the slick skin, nose brushing the skin just over her clit, and she struggled to regain her composure.

“Be quiet, now,” he teased. “Wouldn’t want someone to think you swear at your students’ papers, would we?”

“And whose fault would _that_ be?” The words came out as a hiss, and she moved to push herself away so she could glare at him.

His hands grabbed her hips to keep her in place. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Fine. Whatever. He could say what he wanted. But she had to at least try to read this godsdamn paper; he’d be beyond insufferable if he truly broke her concentration. Carefully, she took a deep breath and began again.

_While the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator is generally held to be less reliable as a measure than tests measuring the Big Five—_

His lips found her clit and began to suck, and she gave up with a whimper. Damn him, but he was _far_ too good at this. His little game hadn’t been fair from the beginning, and he’d known it.

He nibbled at her flesh, letting just the faintest edge of his teeth brush her clit, and the edge of pain was almost too much. She snaked a hand down beneath the desk and grabbed a fistful of his hair, holding his face against her as she rolled her hips.

To his credit, he seemed to realize that she was far too close to the edge for him to stop just to be ornery. Instead he allowed her to ride his face, licking and sucking whatever flesh she made available to him. Between his efforts and the thrill of having him under her desk, it didn’t take long at all for her to reach her peak with a soft gasp.

She probably would’ve been more embarrassed by how quickly she’d gotten there if it hadn’t felt so damned good.

Aelin was still in a daze from the sensation of it all as Whitethorn carefully stood, urging her to stand and then bend over her desk. Several papers hit the floor with the sound of rustling paper, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She felt him slide her underwear down her legs and lift one of her feet to free her from the fabric, and with a sigh she spread her legs, giving him a view she knew he couldn’t get enough of. Rather than stop to appreciate it, though, he pressed her legs back together with hands on her thighs, and she twisted until she could look over her shoulder at him in confusion.

He simply smirked in response and rubbed the head of his cock against her—when had he pulled it free from his pants?

She shivered and bit her lip. “What’re you—?”

Her question trailed off into a moan as his cock pressed into her. _Fuck_ , but it was somehow even better like this; the stretch of it inside of her always felt delightful, but with her legs pressed together like this the added friction had her grasping at the desk for something, _anything_ to hold onto to keep her grounded.

“Gods.” The word was hoarse, his voice deeper than normal, and when she dared to glance back at him his eyes were fixed on where they were joined. She grinned and wiggled her hips, laughing huskily when the motion caused him to hiss.

In retaliation, his first thrust was just this side of too hard, and just like that they were moving together, any thoughts Aelin could’ve formed lost to the sensation of his cock moving inside her and his hips slapping against hers. Her cheeks were burning as her eyes fluttered shut, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel embarrassed by the deep blush she knew must’ve been showing. Not when it felt this good to let go.

He tugged her hips back just a little harder against his own, giving him just enough room to shove a hand between her and the desk. Deft fingers found and circled her clit, and just like that she was on the edge all over again.

“Do it. Come for me.” His words, rough and spoken through gritted teeth, pushed her over, and she clapped a hand over her mouth in an effort to muffle her cry as much as possible. A few moments later his hips ground against hers as he found his own release, and together they collapsed onto her desk, Aelin relishing the warmth of him at her back for just a moment. She could take a moment to enjoy this before composing herself and kicking him out of her office.

She regretted that decision almost immediately when she felt him brush her hair out of her face and saw the grin on his face. “You’re welcome.”

Aelin growled. “You’re not allowed to be this insufferable while you’re still inside me.”

“No?”

She flexed her muscles around him and watched him grimace at the squeeze around flesh that must have been as oversensitive as she was. “No.”

He lightly slapped her hip before pulling away, and a tiny part of her immediately mourned the loss of him while the rest of her glared at him. He only smirked in reply, doing the bare minimum to make himself presentable before sauntering over to the door again. “Enjoy your grading, _Professor Galathynius._ ”

Gods, but he could make even the title she’d fought so hard for sound like an insult. She growled in response, but he merely grinned and left her office.

Aelin took a deep breath and stood up on shaky legs, slipping her underwear back on and up her legs. Her hair was absolutely a lost cause, so she simply tied it back and made sure her blouse was still on straight before smoothing her skirt back down.

Then she looked at the papers and growled out a curse. Most of them were fine, but a few were hopelessly crumpled from where he’d fucked her into the desk.

She carefully tucked the ones that were fine into her bag before gathering the ones that were worse off and stalking toward his office. He’d gotten her into this mess, and she would make him help get her back out of it if it was the last thing she did.


End file.
